


Glasses 1

by Authormitchel



Series: Glasses [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bickering, Enemies to Friends, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authormitchel/pseuds/Authormitchel
Summary: Rationally, Draco knows that he shouldn't take Potter's glasses off before he punches him in the nose, but he really, really can't help himself.





	Glasses 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading. This will be one of a series, elaborating on my story Glasses. I hope you guys like it. You can follow me on tumblr at thinkmyhappythoughts if you have a question or want to check out other H.P stuff, and be sure to leave comments I love hearing from you. And Jo, if you're reading this, I have an idea.

Draco seriously wondered if Potter could read or not. “It says it right there. We have the pitch.” Draco shoves the paper at Potter, but one of the red headed twin miscreants steps forward to take it instead. He hands it to Potter like a nice little secretary. 

“This is from Snape.” 

“Yes, well he is our Head of House, and he said we could use the pitch,” said Draco. 

The other red headed twit steps up and whispers something in Potter’s ear. 

“Care to save the lover’s convo for later, my team needs to practice.” 

And Draco isn’t really sure how it happened. But one moment he was insulting Potter’s taste and the next, Potter had shoved him. 

“Working through the whole family are you, Potter? I would have started with the dragon tamer, myself.” 

Potter puts his arm out, stopping the more aggressive of the twins from going for him. 

“Disappointed it’s not you, Malfoy. I’d say your family would be quite the time. Too bad, I don’t do blondes or psychopaths.”

“Don’t talk about my mother, Potter.” 

Potter leaned in close. “So, does that mean daddy’s fair game?”

This was out of character for Potter. This was not how the game is played. Normally, Draco says something insulting to Potter, Potter then walks away, and let’s Draco have whatever he wants. But this Potter, this, was disturbingly hot. 

And he doesn’t know why he does it. But he does. He leans forward and…. 

Draco takes Harry’s glasses off. An odd thing to do in a fight, students around them shouting for them to just “get on with it”, but Draco does it anyways. Potter’s going to have a broken nose soon, no need for broken glasses as well. Potter looks shocked for a moment, but snaps back when Draco raises his fist. 

Thankfully, Draco tossed Potter’s glasses far enough to the side that they were out of the way of the ensuing fray. Draco’s Slytherins and Potter’s Gryffindors go for each other like a pack of wild kneazels. The more feisty Weasley twin, Fred, socks Draco in the jaw, but with a jab of his wand, he’s able to angle to get to who he really wanted to hit in the first place. Potter. He punched Potter in the stomach then head butted him, thankful that he took his glasses off. There was no need to get glass in his eyes or Dracos’. 

Neither thought to grab their wand until somehow Potter had flipped them over then froze with his thighs around Draco and Draco’s arms around his neck. They looked quite the pair, but no matter how Draco tried to move, they were stuck. 

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing?” It was Madam Hooch. 

Huh. Draco could deal with her. At least it wasn’t, “Mr. Potter! What on earth?”

McGonagall. 

Oh, fuck. 

&&&

“Now, you will stay here until I can be assured that you have resolved your differences.” McGonagall had sequestered Harry and Draco from the rest of their respective teams, McGonagall having determined that they were the root of the problem. 

As soon as McGonagall was out of the room Potter set to babbling. “How are we going to fix this? You don’t think she’ll cancel Quidditch, do you? Because I can suck it up for Quidditch. We may not necessarily get a long, but I’m sure we can fake it.”  
And fuck it if Draco just couldn’t let it go at that. Potter was being reasonable. But Draco didn’t feel like being reasonable. He felt like being a prick. Harry extended his hand, and Draco felt only a bit of self-satisfaction when he turned his nose up at it

“Why are you being so stubborn? You know McGonagall, and you know she won’t let us out until we settle this.”

He motioned between them. 

Draco laughed. “Oh, can you just stop being an obnoxious Gryffindor that easily? Because if I had known it would be that easy, I would have punched you way before now.”

“Malfoy,” said Potter, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Draco scoffed. “I’m being honest, Potter, it’s not my fault you adoring public has been kissing your arse for so long you forgot what that’s like.” 

Potter rolled his eyes. 

“Please, you’re grasping at straws.”

“I’m what?” asked a confused Draco. 

‘”It means….you’re trying to make something out of nothing.”

“Really,” Draco stood, facing Potter once again, but this time he left his glasses where they were. “Well, I mean that you’re a ponce. You’re like a king in your little tower, and all the Gryffindors are your subjects, not to mention the rest of the school.”

“And the fact that you regularly hold court at the Slytherin table with your “subjects” doesn’t count?”

“Why Potter, I didn’t know you paid that much attention.” An odd look crossed Potter’s face before he fired back. “Got to keep an eye on you don’t I?” 

It was an accusation. They both knew it. They both knew the roles they played. The slimey Slytherin and the hero Gryffindor, but Draco didn’t see why there couldn’t be some kind of a medium especially if that meant getting out of this jail cell. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

Draco sighed. “What kind of an inane….” 

“Just answer the question Malfoy.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, but answered. “Green.”

“Great,” said Potter. “Now you ask me a question.”

Draco thought for a moment before asking, “What’s your favorite subject?”

“Potions,” Harry replies immediately. And Draco barks out a laugh he’s sure he can hear his mother scolding him for miles away. 

“I didn’t know we could lie.”

“Well, this is a bonding exercise,” said Potter in way of explanation. The word bonding flittered through Draco’s head before he could stop it. 

“Fine then, I’m officially changing my favorite color to red. Not like Gryffindor red, but like Weasley red.” 

Harry laughs. It does odd things to Draco’s insides. 

“I’m not joking. Gingers are my thing now.”

Harry laughs again, and just like that the door clicks open. Draco reels himself back in. 

“Magic, huh?” said Potter. Draco sucks in a breath, until he notices where Potter’s gaze is. The door is open, but McGonagall is nowhere in sight. 

“Right,” said Draco. “Magic.” 

They both move toward the door. 

“You’re not bad, Potter. I still don’t think we’re going to be holding hands and singing All Hail The Hippogriff, but I think it’s a start.” 

And though Draco swore to himself that he would never do it again, he offers Potter his hand. 

But this time he takes it.


End file.
